


Snakes in Stomachs and the Meaning of Manubrium

by King_Queen_and_Ace



Series: Life on the Murder Scene [1]
Category: Cobra Starship, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, The Academy Is..., Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Andy has a coffee shop, Bones AU, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Forensics, Gerard Way is a Sweetheart, I try to be funny, M/M, Multi, Murder, Murder Mystery, Ryan needs a hug, Slow Burn, because it's a great tv show, hopefully it works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-08-17 02:32:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16507679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/King_Queen_and_Ace/pseuds/King_Queen_and_Ace
Summary: Brendon moved forward to introduce himself, offering his hand and an easy smile, “Hey, I’m Detective Brendon Urie, and I’m assuming you’re-”“Dr Ross” Ryan interrupted, choosing not to shake Brendon’s hand, and instead choosing to scan over the office, eyes resting over the framed goofy photograph of the Urie family. He pursed his lips.*A partnership between the Wentz Institute and the FBI? Great. All good. No reason to worry.A partnership between Ryan Ross and Brendon Urie? Not so much. Well, there's nothing like a good murder to get over their differences.





	1. Nothing Ever Seems to Work Out for Ryan Ross

Ryan Ross was not happy.

His day had begun pleasantly enough: there was little traffic on the way to work, a new shipment of artefacts had arrived for him, and no one had stolen his tea. So when Ray called him into the office, he knew something bad was approaching. The universe was never this kind to him. However, nothing could have prepared him this bout of misfortune.

“What do you mean a _partner_?”

Ray squirmed, uncomfortable, as Ryan stared at him with disbelief. “The FBI believes it would be in everyone’s best interests to create a partnership with the Wentz Institute, given our aptitude for forensics.”

“Yes, but why _me_?” An excellent question in Ray’s opinion, one he wished the FBI had considered before requesting Ryan. Whilst Ryan was the best in his field, his social skills left little to be desired.  There were too many instances in which Ryan had been forced to converse, somehow insulting high up officials and fairly important people. These tended to end with a letter on Ray’s desk demanding an apology for whatever Ryan had said.

Clearly, Ray thought, there would be no perfect outcome to this conversation. He wondered again why he had to break the news to Ryan, oh wait, because he’s the head of the department. He sighed as he began, “Dr Ross, you are unquestionably at the top of your field, and there is no one else who-”

“But what about Tyler? William? Even Gabe for god’s sake?” Ryan whined. Ray grimaced at the last name. The fact that Ryan was even suggesting Gabe showed his desperation.

“I’m sorry Dr Ross, but the decision is final.” He said with little apology in his voice.

Ryan whirled around, exiting Ray’s office in a dramatic fashion, slamming the door. Several people turned to peer at his office, to find the source of the commotion. Tyler popped his head round at the sound. “So I take it that went well.” Ray sighed and massaged his temples. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

 

Brendon Urie leaned against his desk, swigging his coffee, waiting restlessly for his new partner to appear outside his office. Billie had already assigned the duo a case to investigate a possible homicide, so no time wasted there. He stared into the mug. The offer for this partnership had come with a shiny new promotion, office and bonus, which Brendon jumped at. He was saving up to buy a new apartment; his old apartment, although cosy, was just a tad on the small side (and by that he meant he could reach the kitchen from the bathroom in under six steps). Would it be worth it though? The FBI disliked working with the squints – they were useless at the stand in court, so they much preferred their own forensics. Nonetheless the Wentz Institute was smart. Scratch that, they were fucking brilliant. Any case you couldn’t crack you would ask the Wentz to help, and they’d solve it within a minute.

There was a loud knock, making Brendon jump, splashing coffee out of his mug and onto the desk.

 “Come in.” He called out, attempting to compose himself, hurriedly mopping up the coffee as his new partner, Ryan Ross himself, walked in without hesitation. His features were twisted by a frown and he gave off an assertive vibe. However his whiskey coloured eyes seemed unsure.

Brendon moved forward to introduce himself, offering his hand and an easy smile, “Hey, I’m Detective Brendon Urie, and I’m assuming you’re-”

“Dr Ross” Ryan interrupted coldly, choosing not to shake Brendon’s hand, and instead choosing to scan over the office, eyes resting over the framed goofy photograph of the Urie family. He pursed his lips.

“Uh well would you like to take a seat?” Brendon said, lowering his arm, slightly deterred.

Ryan sat down on one of the dark brown, faux leather armchairs, which always squeaked. He crossed his arms as Brendon sat across from him, at the desk adorned with a small statuette of a dog.

Brendon regarded the man opposite. There were many rumours about him floating around the FBI. Everyone seemed to be of the opinion that he was heartless and incredibly rude. Many were freaked out about him, especially given his affinity for dead.

 Brendon, however, had chosen not to believe any of this, wanting to make his own impression of Ryan - his parents had always raised him to think for himself and make his own judgements. But as Ryan looked away, he could not help but think _fuck_ , this may not be worth the promotion.

Ryan shifted; tense, under Brendon’s stare. He had already made his own assessment of Brendon. The man was evidently cheerful, social and family-orientated – the exact opposite of himself. Ryan could not see how this was going to work out. He cleared his throat, cursing Ray. “So do we have a case, or will this just be a waste of my time?”

Brendon stirred, and gave another smile – an idle part of Ryan’s mind wondered if his face hurt from smiling all the time – “Ah yes, a body has been discovered in a man’s apartment by the landlord. No ID as of yet, and the landlord is too shaken up to offer any information according to the local cops. We’re to head to the crime scene – I’ll talk to the landlord and any tenants, and you can work your squint magic.”

“My what?” Ryan narrowed his eyes. Brendon mentally gulped, regretting his word choice.

“Squint magic.”

Ryan sniffed haughtily, “Detective what I use is _science_ not some made-up, supernatural, fairy-tale ability. Clearly you must have a low IQ if-”

Brendon rolled his eyes ignoring Ryan’s mini-rant, “Fucking squints,” he muttered, “Don’t understand fucking jokes.” “Let’s just go.” He said to Ryan, making his way out of his office, without glancing behind to see if Ryan was following.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey welcome to my new au. It's based off of the tv show Bones (I highly recommend) and will (fingers crossed) turn into a series. Kudos and comments are appreciated :)


	2. Naked Mole Rats Make Me Uncomfortable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel Saporta? High? It's more likely than you think.

The body was halfway within a tank on the floor.

The tank itself was filled with rocks, and had a large UV light, heating up the apartment enough to make everyone’s face glisten with sweat. The torso, head and arms had all started to rapidly decompose, but the legs were still completely intact. The ribs and skull peeked through in some places, giving the body an eerie look. The rest of the room the body was in seemed fairly clean, showing no signs of a struggle, apart from a couple of smashed plates and spilled food on the floor near a table. The walls were painted black, and there were two, luxurious green couches with a matching armchair placed in the centre. There were a few small gold ornaments dotted around the apartment.

Ryan peeked over the officer guarding the door, taking in the small army of forensics running about the place, readying gear, taking photographs, gathering evidence and the body as Brendon flashed his badge at the guard, who allowed the pair to pass. Ryan darted to the body, pulling out his UV light scanning the body. Brendon gagged slightly at the smell of rotting flesh, and Ryan glanced at him - almost laughing, making Brendon scowl. “Work your damn magic Ross.” And to himself, muttered, “Not all of us prefer the company of the dead to the living.”

“Victim is female, 5’4, late twenties to early thirties, Caucasian,” Ryan frowned, “She has a large amount of particulates between her teeth.”

Brendon peered over Ryan’s shoulder to stare at the woman’s poor dental hygiene, “ _Gross_.”

Ryan ignored him, continuing and pointing at the victim’s sternum, “She also appears to have a particularly shallow manubrium.”

“A what?  And I don’t think that doesn’t explain why the legs are completely fine, and the rest is so…”

“Decomposed?” Ryan supplied.

“I was going to go with damn ugly, but that works too.”

And this was where their first argument began. It may have been over something incredibly, incredibly stupid (later on the pair would wake in the middle of the night, cringing about it) but at the time it seemed like one of the most important things in the world. “You should use the correct terminology.”

“Why,” Brendon scoffed, “It’s not like we’re making the official report now.”

“Still you should. Using incorrect terminology creates misunderstandings.” Ryan said in a clipped tone, insistent, not willing to back down and let Brendon have the satisfaction of having the last word.

“Holy shit, it does not matter.” Brendon replied, throwing his arms up in the air. He knew he was letting this get to him more than it should, but he couldn’t help it. He made a sweeping motion around the room, “No one fucking cares. I was just trying to be funny, but apparently you squints have sticks up your asses-”

“Shut up.” Ryan said frowning.

“Excuse me?” Brendon asked in disbelief, “You can’t just –”

“Would you be quiet for a goddamn minute!” Ryan’s head was cocked to one side, “Can’t you hear that?”

There was a soft squeaking noise, that had gradually become louder and louder during their argument. Ryan’s eyes widened by a fraction and he stepped back, “I think we’re going to need Gabe.”

“Who?” Brendon asked before a swarm of hairless rats erupted from the tank, unhappy their source of food was being disturbed. Brendon gave a very manly shriek, falling backwards on his ass, as Ryan scrambled away from the tank as the rats took off in different directions. The room began to panic as they skittered across the floor.

Ryan managed to back into a corner, where he surveyed the chaotic scene of forensics and Brendon, some trying to catch the unsettlingly smooth pests, some trying to protect evidence, and a few just panicking and screeching.  Brendon was part of the latter group. It was all rather amusing.  Ryan allowed himself a smile, before digging into his pocket to retrieve his phone.

“Hey Gabe. I need your help.”

* * *

 

By the time Gabe Saporta arrived, there was considerably more panic, as Ryan had deduced the tank was for a snake. Given that the snake was missing, one could understand why many were in near hysterics by this point.

“Hey hey hey.” Gabe called out, announcing his presence, “I hear we have a snake on the loose.”

Everyone couldn’t help but stare at him.

“Gabe what the fuck?” Ryan asked, his monotone voice exasperated. Gabe was sporting a loud floral shirt and shorts over his standard issue Wentz Institute field jumpsuit, as well as a large pair of sunglasses. Ryan suspected he was either high or hungover. Probably both.

“What? It’s the latest fashion in forensics, Rossie.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Aw you know you love me Rossie.”

“Can you just deal with this?” Ryan said waving his arms around the room, which the rats were still dashing though.

Gabe easily picked one up as it ran past his feet, “Damn they’re so smooth,  it’s like a baby’s ass.”

Everyone kept staring at him, uncomfortable with the description and wondering if it was literally that easy to pick them up.

Ryan cleared his throat to gather the forensics’ attention, “Get the body back to the Wentz. We’ll inspect it further there, to ID and to determine cause of death, and why only half the body was eaten. Also Gabe, we’ll need the scat from both the rats and the snake for time of death.”

Gabe gave a mock salute. “Yes sir.” Ryan half smiled before walking to the door. He called out to Brendon, whose mouth was hanging open as he stared at Gabe, “Well aren’t you coming?”


	3. Everyone Screams Like A Girl (No One Can Convince Me Otherwise)

The body was now lying on the main table on the platform in the Wentz Institute.

Ray eyed the body warily, “You’re sure there’s no rats in the body?”

Ryan answered, “Gabe’s pretty sure.”

“I’m not sure how much I trust Gabe.” Mikey chimed in, from a safe distance across the platform.

“Why are hairless rats so much creepier than normal rats anyway?” Gerard contemplated sitting on a table next to Mikey. Ryan shrugged in response.

“Well here goes.” Ray muttered, hair bobbing nervously. He approached the torso with a saw. “I need the digestive system the most, since she was eating at time of death – judging by the particulates in her teeth and then –”

Ray was interrupted by Gerard shrieking and pointing at the stomach.

“Holy crap” someone screamed. A snake was rising out of the body, rather disgruntled due to the fact that it was about to be sawed in half.

Ray wailed, “Someone get it!” whilst scrambling for safety.

For the second time that morning, Ryan witnessed panic spread across a group of forensics. He pulled out his phone again, shouting over his co-workers screams of “Kill it!” “ _NO!_ We need the particulates in its stomach!” “No one gives a shit Tyler!”

“Gabe? Yeah we found the snake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one


	4. Are Snakes Sexy?

“Oh hey Ray, you’re just in luck – Gee just finished reconstructing the face, I’m about to run it through the database.” Mikey said looking up from the tablet at Ray, who was holding his hands as far from his face as possible as he entered the brothers’ shared office. Gerard frowned at him, “What happened to you?”

Ray turned to face him, wide-eyed. “I was just dealing with the digestive system. So much gross shit. I don’t understand how someone can eat that much food. I’m horrified.”

Gerard gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder but giving his hands a wide berth as Mikey declared, “We have a hit.” He sent it to the big screens. **(A/N if you don’t watch Bones, basically there are big screens connected to the tablet. The computer can basically do anything.)**

“Okay, the victim is Tina Thomas, thirty-one years old. No criminal record. Reported missing by her husband Greg Thomas, two weeks ago.” Mikey rattled off.

“Scans put time of death around fifteen days ago.” Ray offered, as Gabe entered the office, no longer wearing his colourful attire from the crime scene. He brushed a collection of crisp packets off of a table before perching himself upon it.

“I figured out why only half the body was so decomposed: hairless rats can only survive in hot temperatures since they have no fur to keep them warm.”

“And since only half the body was in the tank –” Ray continued catching on to Gabe’s train of thought.

“-Only half was eaten. Also Ray, why do your hands smell so bad?” Gabe finished.

“Don’t even ask,” Ray waved his hands, “Also good work Gabe.” “What, you’re surprised?” Gabe replied acting affronted.

Mikey stared at him. “Do you really want us to answer that?”

Ray cleared his throat, interrupting their little impromptu glaring (from Mikey) and smirking (from Gabe) session, “Well alrighty then, Mikey you alert Ryan and his partner –” “How’s that going by the way?” Mikey interjected. Ray ignored him, “They’ll be in the Feds headquarters. Gerard you can get the skull back to Tyler, and Gabe you need to find a way to get your snake to vomit, William X-rayed it and found that it had ingested the scapula.”

At the mention of his co-worker Gabe screeched, “Bilvy, my love, I am coming!” and flounced out of the office. Mikey muttered, “Good luck William.” as he followed the tall man out.

* * *

Ryan was staring intently at the victim’s tibia when his phone rang, and he answered on reflex. “Ross.”

“It’s Mikey. We IDed the victim as Tina Th-”

“Oh I know. Willian told me.” Ryan said moving onto the femur.

“Wait how did he- you fucker. Where are you? Why aren’t you with your partner?”

“The lab. I needed to examine the bone for cause of death.”

“Tyler could’ve done that! Go to your damn partner Ross.”

“I don’t want to.” Ryan was aware he sounded like a petulant child, but he couldn’t care less. The duo had had another three arguments on the way from the crime scene. (The subject of which were the merits of orange juice, the meaning of manubrium and why one shouldn’t ask for help if one had fallen – in no particular order)

Mikey sighed, and Ryan could easily imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not your fucking mother Ryan. Go for god’s sake.”

“But-”

“I’ll throw away all of your tea.”

Ryan became silent. Then let out a small, mumbled “Fine.” before hanging up. He sighed, slowly pulling off his lab coat, before dragging himself off to Brendon.

* * *

Brendon was pissed. The whole ride back from the crime scene, he and Ryan had been arguing, and as soon as Brendon had parked, Ryan had jumped out of the car and stridden toward the Wentz Institute, leaving him before he could get a word in about the preliminary report. And so now, Billie was on his ass, because Brendon didn’t have it. Brendon scowled as his conversation with the deputy director surfaced.

_“I’m not asking for the world Urie, I just want a goddamn initial report.” Brendon sat at his desk as Billie stood across from him, his arms folded._

_“It’s not my fault, Ross has the fucking thing.” Brendon adjusted the position of a photo of his sister on his desk._

_“Well ask him for it then!” Billie flapped his arms._

_“He left before I could talk to him, and there’s no way in hell that I’m going to call him up, and beg for it.” Brendon spun round in his chair._

_“Just co-operate with him!”_

_“Have you ever talked to him?!” He stared at Billie, incredulous._

_Billie sighed, and scrubbed his hand over his face, “Just compromise with him or something, I don’t know-”_

“I’m back.” Said Ryan gruffly, rousing Brendon from his thoughts, as he closed the office door behind him,

“Wonderful.” Brendon muttered, rolling his eyes. _God,_ he thought, _Ross is such an asshole. He has some nerve coming back here after this morning._

“I sent a copy of the preliminary to your boss.” He dropped a copy onto Brendon’s desk. “You should probably contact the victim’s family.”

Brendon flipped open the file, and inspected the picture of the victim. “Cause of death?”

“We’re still trying to determine. Most likely blunt force trauma to the back of the skull; there’s no remodelling, so it definitely occurred at time of death. Dr Toro is still waiting on the results of the tox scan though, so she may have been sedated before falling. I try not to use conjecture.”

“Anything else I should know?” Brendon said, as he picked up the phone to dial the victim's emergency contact.

“My co-worker Dr Beckett believes she may have been a prostitute.” (William had been slumped in one of the armchairs in Ryan’s office, whilst Ryan sat at his desk typing up the preliminary report up, when he came to this conclusion, “Okay but the vic was totally a prostitute.”)

“Oh?” Brendon snorted in laughter at Ryan’s bluntness.

“Yes, her shallow manubrium would allow her to swallow large things, in addition the fact that she had a separate apartment from the house she shared with her husband. Also the forensic accountants found that she would receive large sums of money on a semi-regular basis, which would most likely be from her clientele, not to mention the snake.”

Brendon stared at Ryan, who pronounced the last statement as if it was self-explanatory. “The snake?”

“Yes, snakes are considered a symbol of sensuality in many cultures.”

 Brendon raised an eyebrow. “Whatever gets you going dude.” Ryan just blushed, looking at his shoes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I 100% promise forensic accountants are a thing.


	5. 4 x 2 = 8

William stared at the snake through the glass tank. It stared unblinking back at him. He turned to face Gabe. “Patrick suggested killing it.”

Gabe gasped dramatically, “How could he kill this lil cutie, my smol son, a precious bean?”

 William raised an eyebrow. “I’m trying to get down with the kids.” Gabe said defensively.

“Gabe you’re a millennial. You basically are a kid.”

“Shit.”

William sighed. “But Patrick has a point. The stomach acid will dissolve the scapula in a couple of hours, so there’s no way we can wait for it to come out the other side. The only other pacifist option is for the snake to vomit it up. And I’m pretty sure you don’t know how to make a snake vomit.”

“Okay first of all: it’s three.” Gabe replied frowning. He stroked the tank lightly. William wondered for a brief moment if he should leave Gabe and the snake some privacy.

“ _What?_ ”

“Hours. We have three hours. And I’m sure that’s more than enough to figure out a way.” Gabe dived around his lab, upturning countless papers. “There’s got to be a book somewhere to help us.”

William sighed. He bent down and faced the snake again, tapping on the glass, “You better be worth this.” before rifling between the messy stacks of paper on Gabe’s desk to help him find a book.

* * *

Ryan shifted in his chair, uncomfortable as the man opposite him bawled, whilst Brendon patted his shoulder, attempting to offer him some consolation. He couldn’t understand why he had to be present for this. He was of no help at all. _Surely being back at the lab would be a better use of his time?_

“It’s just that, sh-she was going to quit her work y-you know? She – we had been talking about it for s-some time. And now she’s… I just can’t believe it… We were going to settle down. Have k-kids you know? The whole w-white picket fence kinda thing. Oh god, Tina.” Ryan stared impassively at the blubbering mess in front of him. Brendon cocked his head at Ryan when Greg mentioned Tina quitting.

“So Tina was unhappy about her job?”

The man lifted his head at that. “Yeah. I guess shoving sausages down your throat for people’s pleasure gets tiring after a while.” He laughed unhappily. Both Ryan and Brendon blinked at that. He was rather upfront about his wife giving blowjobs to other people.

Brendon cleared his throat, “So you were aware of all aspects of your wife’s work then?”

“Oh yes. She’d often do it at home. I used to watch, you know?” Brendon choked, trying to pass it off as a cough. “To support her. I was her biggest fan. She could take a whole nine inches.” Ryan began to blush as the man continued. “But after a while I just, just felt so dirty you know? Like I shouldn’t be watching. I still respect – respected her line of work and what she does. But anyway we came to an agreement, she got an apartment especially for her it and we would keep work and play separate. And it worked, you know? And she was earning so much, I didn’t even need to work anymore – she was that good – so she convinced me to quit  - I could then work on the house, make improvements and all. Make it nice for-for when…” Greg broke down before he could finish his sentence.

Brendon offered him a tissue, “Mr Thomas, do you know of any clients or Tina’s who may have wanted to harm her?”

Greg frowned as he took the tissue. “Clients?”

“Yeah, since your wife was a,” Brendon waved his arms around in a complicated gesture, “a prostitute.”

“ _What? God no_! She was a competitive food eater!”

Both boys’ mouths hit the floor, “What?”

Greg looked disgusted, “I can’t believe you thought my wife is-was a prostitute!”

Ryan’s eyes were incredibly wide as he spoke for the first time. “But the evidence-!” Seeing Greg’s face stopped him from continuing. “Nevermind.”

“ _God.”_ Greg muttered incredulous.

* * *

Mikey pressed play on the video on the screen. “So it turns out Tina wasn’t a prostitute like William thought. She’s a competitive eater. In fact she was world-class: she’s won nearly every competition she’s entered.” The video showed Tina shoving a hotdog down her throat. It appeared rather disgusting in Gerard’s opinion. And it couldn’t be comfortable, forcing that down her throat. Then Gerard remembered the time he had shoved six packets of Doritos in succession in under ten minutes, and decided that it probably wasn’t that bad. He wondered if he should change his line of work to a competitive eater. He shook his head attempting to focus on the case, “And the apartment?”

“The apartment was for her to practise eating all that food. All those particulates in her teeth? They’re there because she died around the time she was practising.”

Gerard nodded, “That still doesn’t explain the snake though.”

Mikey searched through the list of videos before pulling up a particular one onscreen, where the snake hung from her neck. “She’d have it around her neck at competitions to like, psyche out opponents or something. It kinda became her trademark.”

“You know, she looks pretty good for a competitive eater, she must have worked out a lot.” Gerard commented.

“Yeah,” Mikey agreed, “She had a pretty strict routine; she went to the gym every day.” The two brothers continued to watch her onscreen as she paraded in a skimpy outfit with the snake draped around her neck.

“Do you think I could do it? Competitive eating I mean.”

Mikey tuned to stare at Gerard, “What?” Seeing his brother looking serious, he managed to choke down a laugh. “Maybe. I don’t see you going to the gym every day though.”

“Fair point.”

* * *

“Hey,” Tyler looked up from the bones as Ryan entered the room, pulling on a pair of plastic gloves, “Results from the tox screen came back. Nothing showed up.”

“So she wasn’t drugged.”

“No. And there were no signs of a struggle – no bruising, no haemorrhaging. Apart from on the skull obviously. It appears that the victim was simply pushed backwards, hitting the tank I believe, which would be the blunt force trauma.”

Ryan nodded as he turned over the skull examining it, “I agree, these marks are concurrent with what would occur if she did hit the tank.” He narrowed his eyes at the bones, studying them intently. “If she fell then maybe…” He trailed off, as he picked up a bone near the wrist, “Look at the scaphoid. There are signs of bruising – where the glass would have entered her palm.”

Tyler peered at it, “She tried to break her fall. Do you want Mikey to run a simulation?”

Ryan nodded as he pulled off his gloves, “Yes please, it will be needed in court. Now I, need to get back to my partner.” His lip curled in distaste. “Why I need to be there when he hunts down potential suspects, I have no idea.”

Tyler grinned, “It’s going well then?”

 He was met with Ryan’s middle finger as he stalked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing fanfiction is an entirely valid way of studying for an English Language Mock


	6. Food -> Opera

Ryan and Brendon picked their way through the cheering crowd in order to observe the stage, where several men and women were gorging themselves on hotdogs as women in short skirts and tight tops paraded behind them, keeping track of the numbers consumed by each individual. They had come to the ‘Gluttony Games’ – an event Tina had been scheduled to go to, according to the calendar Mikey found on her phone. The winner of the Games, Mikey had explained, would receive ten thousand dollars. Brendon thought it was likely one of the other competitors killed her.

Brendon leaned into Ryan to be heard, “Okay, the competitors will all be suspects – they’ll need to provide an alibi, and anyone close to the vic will be under more scrutiny. Also look out for anyone in the audience who seems particularly riled up. Maybe a fan could’ve gotten a little too excited.” Noticing how Ryan stood stiff as the crowd around barged into him, Brendon nudged him. “Hey loosen up a little.”

Ryan shrunk to Brendon’s side as a man jostled into him. “I’m just a little… uncomfortable with this situation.”

“What are you kidding?” Brendon opened his arm, “This place is great, I mean can you feel the atmosphere!”

Ryan opened his mouth to say something, but Brendon couldn’t hear him above the sudden roar of the crowd: the man in the centre had finished his pile of hotdogs, and was standing victorious, one arm held up by the referee. **(A/N Idk how these work)**

Brendon turned to Ryan as the crowd dissipated to watch the next event. “Sorry what were you going to say?”

“I-” Ryan shook his head, “It’s nothing.”

Brendon eyed him. “Okay. Well the man that just won is Ron Evans. I remember his file.” The FBI had asked the Gluttony Games for the names of all the competitors as they were now all suspects. “He usually came second to Tina. Got angry a couple of times about it too. DC metro police had to be called.”

Ryan nodded understanding. “And this murder has benefitted him a lot.”

  Brendon gave Ryan a grin before remembering their little spats and composed his face. “Spot on Ross. Spot on.”

* * *

“Ron Evans?” Brendon asked, approaching and interrupting the winner of the Gluttony Games from his orchestral sounding belches.

“That’s me.” Ron burped again. “Who are you?” He appraised the pair.

Brendon pulled out his badge, flashing it at the man. “I’m Agent Urie, and this is my associate Dr Ross. We’re here to ask you a few questions.”

“Why? Can’t this wait? I’m always very gassy after a competition.” He patted his stomach. Ryan shuddered at the stains on his t-shirt.

“I’m afraid not Mr Evans. Tina Thomas has been murdered.”

“Tina? Well that’s unfortunate.” The man didn’t appear very shocked or upset.

“Yeah, for her. Not for you though.” Brendon narrowed his eyes at him.

Ryan interjected, “You don’t appear to be distressed in any way Mr Evans.”

The man stiffened, defensively. “Yeah well, Tina and I, we were rivals you know? We weren’t close.”

“I’m not sure ‘rivals’ is an appropriate term. You have never beat Tina.  You barely challenge her.” Ryan furrowed his brows. _At least Ryan’s talent for pissing people off is coming in useful_ Brendon thought.

Ron grew angry, thrusting a finger at Ryan “Listen asshole, that bitch was fucking cheating okay? If it weren’t for her weird neck or whatever-”

 “Her shallow manubrium.” Ryan interrupted.  The man continued as if he hadn’t heard Ryan,  repressed anger bubbling to the surface, “She could never have become a competitive eater, let alone have scored that TV deal.”

“TV deal?” Brendon stepped in.

“Yeah, some like Japanese thing.  It was worth thousands. Tina and I were competing for it.” Ron sank back down in his seat, patting his stomach.

“And Tina got it?” Brendon questioned.

“Yeah, cause something like she’d bring in more views, I don’t know.”

“And it must’ve made you real mad that you didn’t get it huh?” Brendon’s tone was cautious, watching the man carefully.

Ron flared up again, “Hell yeah it did! Whoever got that deal would be filthy rich, you know?”

“Mad enough to make you kill her to get it?”

“What?” Ron’s eyes widened, fearful, finally understanding why he was being questioned, “No! I didn’t kill Tina! I got mad sure, but I wouldn’t kill her!”

“Alright, then you got an alibi for your whereabouts fifteen days ago?” Brendon said, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, I was at home practising.”  Ron said, eagerly trying to prove his innocence.

“Alone?”

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well my Eng lang mocks went shit merry first of December


	7. Did you know competitive eaters have managers?

“Well that felt promising.” Brendon commented to Ryan making their way towards the room where the rest of the competitors were. Ryan just turned his head away. _Geez,_ Brendon thought _just trying to be nice._

The pair appraised the room. Sheets had been hung up to divide the room into sections. Most competitors were slumped in their chairs on phones, or talking to their managers.  The atmosphere was quiet, as if these were simple office workers relaxing after a hard day’s work, and not world-class competitive eaters who had just been gorging themselves, whilst spectators screamed at them.

“What do we do now? I need to get back to the lab at some point.” Ryan tilted his head toward Brendon.

“Calm down Ross. We’ll get you back to your date with the bones. We’ll interview the competitors and then you’re free to leave. Let’s start with –” Brendon was interrupted by a crash and shouting. No one seemed particularly concerned as Brendon rushed toward the source of the noise and Ryan trailed behind him.

“You’re worthless and pathetic; you’re a piece of fucking shit!”

Ryan watched on passively as Brendon tackled a large man with a pot belly, who had been shouting at a young woman as he forced food down her throat whilst she gagged, tears streaming down her face. The two struggled on the floor for a minute, rolling around spilt food, before Brendon pinned him down. The crash had originated from a table being overturned in the man’s rage. Ryan realised it was down to him to walk over to the woman and ask her if she was alright. He steeled himself before he went over to her and asked tentatively, “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”  The woman opened her mouth to answer but was stopped by the pot-bellied man. 

“What the fuck man?” He complained as his arms were pinned into his back by Brendon.

“You were assaulting this woman!” He shook the man angrily. Ryan helped the woman up, and she fled out of the small sheet-made compartment, thanking him with a grateful smile.

“What – assaulting her? I was helping her!”

“With what? You really expect me to believe that?” Brendon pressed the man’s arm further into his back. “Fuck! Yeah, that was her personal best! And she could’ve done a whole load more if you hadn’t come barging in.”

“See that’s not what it looked like to me. What’s your name asshole?” He pulled the man up from the floor and shoved him against the wall.

“Joel Hewitt! I’m her manager!”

Brendon frowned. “Joel Hewitt? You managed Tina Thomas didn’t you?”

“Yeah, and she hasn’t answered any of my messages, the bitch, I mean it’s the Gluttony Games – the biggest competitive eating competition of the year – and she hasn’t turned up!” Joel attempted to turn his face toward Brendon, “And can you get off me?!” Brendon released him, but not before giving him another rough shake. Joel moved away from the wall, massaging his wrists.

Ryan noticed the index finger on the hand he had used to force food down the woman’s throat was heavily bandaged. That had to be unsanitary. He scrunched up his nose as Brendon faced Joel. “Mr Hewitt Tina’s been murdered.”

The manager’s eyes widened, “What? When?”

Ryan spoke up, “Fifteen days ago.” Joel sat down in a chair and put his head in his hands. “I can’t believe it.” He lifted his head slightly, “Who did it?”

Brendon flashed his badge at him, “See that’s what my associate Dr Ross and I are trying to find out. Where were you the night of the fifth?”

The man sat up, “Wait what you think it was me?!”

Brendon placed a hand on the other chair, “I don’t know. You seemed pretty happy choking this poor lady. You tell me.”

Joel looked disgusted. “No, it wasn’t me. I have an alibi. I had a meeting with the producers of the show that Tina was going to be on.”

Brendon raised his eyebrow, “What was the show about. I understand there was a little competition to get it.”

The manager nodded, “Yeah with Evans. Most of the competitive eaters would feature on it; it’s just that, the producers, they wanted to focus on a specific person, Tina. They knew she was going to be a big draw, what with the snake and the,” He flapped his hands around, “tight clothing.”

“How much was it worth?”

Joel grinned and leaned forward, “Thousands.” His smile faded though as he remembered Tina. “It’s going to be worth nothing now. Tina was the star attraction.” He shook his head. “She was too young. She had so much life ahead of her. But that’s what always happens isn’t it? The good die young.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, I've been a bit busy with an opera


	8. Rising Tension

Ray looked up from where he had been examining the victim’s throat as Tyler entered his office. “Hey, have you found anything new?”

Tyler shook his head, “No, you?”

“Actually I have, the vic shows signs of repeated vomiting.” Ray said, pulling off his gloves.

“The repeated action of forcing food down could make her vomit a lot?” Tyler suggested. He leant against the wall.

Ray frowned, “I guess, but this doesn’t seem like the case, the victim was a professional, she knew what she was doing, and what her body’s limits were.” He snapped his fingers as he remembered something else, “I also found this lodged in her stomach.” He showed Tyler something small and pale on a petri dish. It looked like it had been bitten from an appendage.

“It looks like…a piece of something. Hopefully not the thing I’m thinking of, because damn that would be painful.” Tyler shifted his legs to protect his crotch from the scenario he had conjured.

Ray curled his mouth, “Well it may came from her killer, (if they attacked her and she bit them) so I’m gonna run DNA and try find a match.”

“Okay. I’ll get back to the bones. By the way, Gabe still hasn’t gotten back to me with the scapula. Ryan’s going to be pissed when he gets back – or more pissed than he inevitably will be since he has to _actually_ interact with living human beings.” Tyler said darting out of the office. Ray pondered smacking Gabe with the slimy remains on his table, (as a form of motivation of course)  deciding against it – only because Gabe would then feel required to start a prank war, something unfavourable in a place where remains are not to be contaminated with glitter.

* * *

William made his way back though the Wentz, and into Gabe’s office clutching onto paper bag from the Oracle Coffee Company. He set it down on the table next to where Gabe was currently clutching his head in his hands. The man was losing hope with each passing minute _. It’s strange_ , William thought, _how quiet things were without Gabe_.

 “Hey.” He said softly, “I brought you a donut from Oracle. Andy says hi.” William sighed and put a hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “Ray came up to me. He-” William bit his lip, trying to find the right words. “We only have twenty minutes left.”

Gabe pushed himself up, his expression grave, “I think I’ve found something Bilvy. It’s risky, but what choice do we have?” William suppressed the urge to laugh as he wondered how he had ended up on an episode of ER for snakes. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

* * *

Ryan stared at the passing scenery from the window of Brendon’s car.

Brendon’s chatter and Ryan’s one worded answers had died out long ago with the confirmation of Evans as the lead suspect.

 There weren’t enough trees in DC, Ryan mused. It was just grey building after grey building. He stared at a woman pushing her baby in a pushchair across a crossing. The baby was leaning out and waving at every passerby.  As the car began moving again he mulled over situation.

He couldn’t understand why the younger man had taken him along to investigate, he had contributed nothing. He served a much better purpose at the lab. That was why the FBI had created this partnership after all, for his expertise.  He just wasn’t good at this kind of thing. Talking. Everyone knew it.  He often blamed his absentee mother and alcoholic father for this. Well most of his faults really. Neither had spent any time or energy on talking to him. He sighed as tried to quell the memories of his father surfacing, something that seemed to keep happening more frequently recently.

Brendon glanced at him, “Glitch in your programming Ross? You seemed to just show an emotion other than ‘pissed off’.”

_“Why can’t you act like a normal fucking human being and not some robot shit?” Crash. The beer bottle smashed against the wall beside Ryan. He scurried away, up the stairs, down the corridor, into his room. Even with the door slammed shut, he could hear his father’s raving. “This is why your mom left you piece of shit.”_

Brendon’s grin seemed to mock him. “Shut up.” Ryan grimaced as he tried to push down the thoughts of _Screamingcryinghitting_ out of his head.

“Aw did I just hurt little Ryro’s feelings?” Brendon mock cooed at him.

“Why can’t you just shut the fuck up Urie!” Ryan hid beneath his fringe trying to bring his emotions under control. Brendon immediately stopped when he saw Ryan’s reaction. Ryan caught a glance at his reflection through the window. The shorter man looked like he was going to ask him something, but Ryan turned as far as he could from Brendon whilst wearing a seatbelt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried


	9. Yikes

William bit his lip staring dubiously at the snake whilst Gabe fiddled with some tech that he was trying to adapt. “You’re sure this will work?”

Gabe paused, “Not really.” He admitted.

“Great.” William rolled his eyes.

“Hey I’m like 70/30 sure. Okay maybe more like 60/40. Yeah, like a strong 60/40. Or you know what actually – ” “Okay, I get the idea.” William cut in.

Gabe adjusted the tech for a couple more minutes before inserting it into the tank. “So hopefully this will lower the temperature enough for the snake to vomit up the scapula. Once it does I’ll need to slowly adjust the temp back to 30°C. You’ll need to fish out the bone; I need to make sure the snake’s vitals don’t drop.” William nodded. “You know what we’ll have to do if this doesn’t work.”

Gabe inhaled. “Yeah. I know.” He walked to the computer. “Here goes nothing.” He began to slowly decrease the temperature, as the snake hissed in obvious discomfort. Gabe cooed at it, “Hey, don’t worry it’ll be okay soon.”

The snake clearly did not hear and/or did not understand as it kept growing more agitated until suddenly it opened its mouth, throwing its head forward. Reddish slime shot out of its mouth and the small fragment of bone with it. It hit the glass, and gradually slid down. William made a face and reached into the tank grabbing the scapular as the snake was distracted, attempting to recover as Gabe increased the heat once more. As soon as he was done, he leapt away from the monitor and pulled William into his arms, his grin wide. “Bilvy! It worked! We did it!”

William couldn’t help but laugh, seeing Gabe back to his normal self. Something fluttered in his chest as he stared into Gabe’s eyes. “We sure did, Gabe. We sure did.”

* * *

Ryan appeared pale when Brendon manged a glance in his direction as Ryan got out the car. Brendon wanted to say something when a man with spectacular sideburns came up to the car. “Hey Ryan, Ray wants to show you something.” Seeing Brendon peering through the car window, the man added, “Oh you can come too if you want,” ignoring Ryan’s silent plea not to invite him in.

“Uh sure.” Brendon mumbled, scratching his head awkwardly, attempting to catch up to Ryan who had shot out of the car.

Brendon stared at the back of Ryan’s head, as the taller man led them through the maze of corridors that was the Wentz Institute. The incident in the car had left the atmosphere more uncomfortable than ever if that were possible. He knew it was his fault: Brendon had pushed, intent on riling Ryan up, expecting him to push back.

He was so deep in his thoughts about Ryan that he forgot to look where he was going, and walked into the taller man’s back. Ryan turned to glare at him, as Brendon apologised sheepishly. _Yikes,_ he thought, _remind me to bang my head into a wall at the nearest chance._

In a bid to feel less awkward he took in the office they were currently standing in. The walls were covered in movie posters pasted over one another (Star Wars and Lord of the Rings to name two out of what Brendon thought must be dozens.) The two desks fared no better: each was covered in comic books, empty soda cans and crisp packets. One side of the room had a large screen and the other had a couple of easels with half-finished canvases on them. They were good, Brendon thought. One more prominent easel depicted a lady wearing a gas mark and black dress in tatters.

“Good isn’t she?” A smiling man approached Brendon.  Brendon’s eyes couldn’t help straying to the man’s hair, dyed fire truck red. “I call her Mother War.” Brendon nodded, wondering who smiling, fire-truck red hair man was. As if the man read his thoughts, he quickly said, “Oh shit – sorry I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Gerard; I recreate the vics’ faces. And this,” Gerard jabbed his thumb behind him, “is Mikey, my brother, he does all the tech stuff.” Mikey stepped out of the shadows. The glare from the large screen reflected off of Mikey’s glasses, making it impossible to see his eyes. He did not smile. Brendon coughed. Ryan cleared his throat. “Where’s Ray?”

“Oh he’ll be here in a second.” Taking in the pale state of Ryan’s face, Gerard’s eyes widened, “Wait, Ry what happened?”

“Nothing.” Ryan shook his head. Gerard opened his mouth to call out Ryan’s lie, however Ray and a shorter man behind him swept into the brothers’ office, before he could say anything. “Oh good you’re all here.” Noticing Brendon with them, Ray extended his hand to him. “You’re Agent Urie aren’t you? I’m Dr Toro, but everyone calls me Ray. I’m in charge of the Wentz Institute’s forensic department.” Brendon nodded as he shook Ray’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Deputy Director Armstrong speaks highly of you.”

“Why thank you.” Turning to the whole group he began, “Okay so Gabe and William finally managed to get the scapula out of the snake,” Gerard, Mikey and the man who followed Ray in all applauded, “and Tyler,” he gestured at the previously unknown man, “calculated the victim’s killer had to be over 5’9 and around 300 pounds, which will hopefully help to narrow down the list of potential suspects.” Ray nodded to Brendon, before suddenly became more sombre, “And I ran some more tests and found our victim was pregnant.”  Gerard clapped a hand over his mouth and Brendon mumbled, “She and her husband had been trying for a baby. They wanted to settle down and all. I wonder if she knew…”

“She was three weeks pregnant.” Tyler stated quietly, “She probably knew and was gonna surprise her husband.”

They stood there in silence for a minute. Eventually Ray spoke, “Okay, we gotta move on guys. I know it’s always hard with cases like this, but nothing good will come from just standing here. We need to find Tina’s killer; that’s the best way to honour her memory.”

Tyler tilted his head, “Preach it.”

“You all know what to do.” Ray swiftly turned and exited, Mikey and Tyler following. At the door, Tyler inclined his head towards the exit, “Ryan?” He offered. Ryan nodded his head jerkily and he fled out.

“Ryan – wait!” Gerard called out after him, sighing when the man didn’t reply. Brendon swallowed – it was just him and Gerard. Better him than Mikey though, his brain added. He turned to leave as well when Gerard placed his hand on Brendon’s shoulder, “Hey.” Brendon cleared his throat, “Uh hi.”

“Do you know what happened with Ryan?” The red haired man’s eyes looked concerned.

Brendon shuffled awkwardly, glancing longingly at the door. “Ah well, no, not really.”

Gerard chewed his lip, “It’s just, he’s not very good at this kind of thing you know? Socialising.” Brendon desperately wanted to say that that was an understatement, but he kept his mouth shut. The artist continued, “But he needs it.” Gerard looked Brendon directly in the eye, “Friends I mean. He’ll push us away and say he doesn’t need us, but he’ll always apologise and make up at the end of the day. And we’ll always be there for him. So if you hurt him,” His grip on Brendon’s shoulder became almost painful, “Just know that we all know how to commit murder and get away with it.” He released Brendon and his eyes grew softer again, “He’s been through a lot of shit Urie. More than enough for a lifetime. He doesn’t need any more.”

Brendon managed to find his voice to speak up and enquire, “What happened to him?”

Gerard shook his head, “We don’t know the full story, and frankly, it’s not our place to ask. See you later.” He exited, leaving Brendon alone with his thoughts.

* * *

Brendon’s phone rang as he paced around the lounge while Tyler sipped at his coffee. He had been there for nearly an hour trying to find a way to apologise to his temperamental partner. Tyler had not said a word to him. Brendon wondered why the whole of the Wentz was conspiring against him.

“Urie.” He answered automatically, walking out into a corridor where he couldn’t be overheard.

“It’s Billie – how’s it going, please tell me you got something, the higher ups are breathing down my neck about this case since it’s the first co-op.”

Brendon coughed, taking a glance in the direction of Ryan’s office, “Uh well we’ve got a lead at least.”

Brendon could almost picture Billie face-palming at this point, “Urie what the fuck happened?”

“It’s a long story, okay?”

“Whatever man. Just tell me about the case.” Brendon overheard him muttering,“ I can’t fuck deal with this shit.” Attempting to move over the topic of his soon to be terminated partnership he began, “Ron Evans. Fellow competitor.”

“Motive?”

“There was a TV deal up for grabs between the best competitors. Tina got it, Evans didn’t. Guy sure seemed bitter about it. It was worth a whole lot apparently.” He added at the end.

“Alibi?”

“None; said he was at home practising.”

“Nice work Urie, even if the partnership isn’t working as well as expected,”

 “How well did you expect it to work, this is Ross we’re talking about.” Brendon interjected sullenly. Billie carried on as if he hadn’t heard him, “You still managed to tie up this case pretty quickly. We can leave it up to the squints to find some fancy thing that’ll impress the jury and then we’ll be able to take this to court.” Billie hung up swiftly, leaving Brendon clutching his phone as the dial tone rang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I want for Christmas is for Take a Vacation to return to Spotify
> 
> EDIT: okay literally 4 or 5 hours after posting this, Jon announced Take a Vacation is coming back on Spotify. I'm not saying some higher being heard my pathetic pleas, but some higher being heard my pathetic pleas and answered


	10. Skylines But No Turnstiles

Ryan was filling out his report in his office when Tyler walked in. Ryan barely glanced up from his laptop. Tyler stood in front of him. “Urie hasn’t left yet you know. He looks like a lost puppy.”

“Good for him.” Ryan replied monotonously.

Tyler raised his eyebrows, “So you’re not gonna like go with him and do more investigating or whatever?”

“No.” Tyler breathed out loudly. Okay. This was going to be harder than he thought. He had decided to do Ray a favour and sort Ryan out (he didn’t really fancy watching the sad puppy also known as Brendon Urie pace in the lounge – it was fairly distracting and quite the nuisance as the lounge was meant to be for _relaxing_ ), but he had hoped this would’ve been a little easier and therefore faster - Gerard made it look so easy. Tyler coughed, “Don’t you kind of have to? I mean, this is an official partnership between the FBI and the Wentz.”

“The Wentz will have to find another forensic to take my place.”

Tyler snorted, “The FBI’s definitely going to be happy about that.”

“The FBI will have to deal.” Ryan said curtly.

Tyler perched on the corner of Ryan’s desk. “You’re not even giving him a chance?”

Ryan sighed, closing the lid of the laptop to meet Tyler’s eyes. “I gave him a chance. Several in fact. And it’s just not going to work. It’s better for me to remain in the lab.”

“Ryan,” Tyler exhaled again, “You can’t just give up now. People are relying on you to solve their cases. To bring them justice. Can’t you see that?”

Ryan lowered his eyes, “Any forensic can do what I do.”

Tyler flapped his arms in frustration. “Maybe, but they’re not _you_. You put things together faster than anyone I know, you know exactly where to look for evidence, _you don’t give up on cases_. You won’t. So please Ryan-” He was interrupted by a knock: Brendon was peering through the doorway looking rueful. Tyler gestured for him to come in as he slid off the desk, “-reconsider. I think you know what to do.”

Brendon glanced curiously at him as he left the room, before mumbling out a quiet, “Hey.” Ryan sighed again and returned the greeting.

Brendon twisted his hands awkwardly and stared at the floor as he began, “So I came here to apologise.” Ryan’s neck snapped up at this. He gazed at Brendon, confused. “What I said earlier was out of line. I was trying to rile you up, and I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done that.”

Ryan swallowed before replying. “It’s fine. It wasn’t really your fault. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m sorry too.”

“So,” Brendon dragged out the vowel, “Are you still gonna be my partner?” He offered his hand to pull Ryan up from his chair. “It’s totally fine if you don’t want to. It can also just be ‘til the end of this case.” He hastily added seeing Ryan’s expression.

Ryan stared up into Brendon’s dark brown eyes and thought for a minute. “You know what, why the fuck not. I have nothing to lose.” He muttered accepting Brendon’s hand to pull him up.

“Oh that’s great!” Ray barged in, grinning like a fool, Patrick scurrying in behind him. It occured to Ryan that they might've been listening in the doorway the whole time “Because we found some new evidence: the object in the victim’s digestive track was part of a finger. We’re waiting for DNA to come back.”

Brendon grinned, “Great! Billie’ll be happy this case came together so fast.” Ray nodded; about to continue when Ryan frowned, interjecting, “Wait,” He turned to Brendon, who was still clasping his hand. Brendon hastily let go as soon as he noticed this, “Didn’t Tina’s manager have this huge bandage, the kind you get if you’ve sliced the tip of your finger off?”

Brendon’s eyes widened, catching Ryan's train of thought and he nodded, “Guess we have an arrest to make.” He strode towards the door, stopping at the last minute to turn round. “Well,” he said to Ryan, still standing at his desk, with a charming smile, “aren’t you coming?”

* * *

William and Gabe sat on the roof of the Wentz, listening to the noise of the city; the honking of angry drivers and the roar of motorbikes; the buskers singing and playing and dancing, and the children and teens laughing as their day drew to a close. It twisted and tangled into an intricate mess, a soothing cacophony. The general chatter drifted towards them as white noise as they watched the autumn sky start to turn pink.

William leant back on his hands, closing his eyes and enjoying the sun’s last rays, content with the day’s outcome: the scapular had been retrieved, the snake remained unharmed and Gabe had returned to his animated self. Speaking of, Gabe angled his body towards him, gazing at him in a rare moment in silence. Feeling the pair of eyes on him, William cracked an eye open, “You good?”

Gabe shook his head, “Yeah,” he hesitated for a second, “It’s just that I- well, I never thanked you.”

William sat up, confusion apparent on his face, “What for?”

Gabe stared at him, incredulous, “Well for helping me, for _believing_ in me when everyone else wanted to cut open Maggie.” (Maggie being the snake of course.)

“Oh, that,” William shrugged, “It’s no big deal.” He settled down again, closing his eyes and feeling Gabe do the same next to him. Gabe bit his lip, turning towards him again after a few seconds, and said softly, “Well, thank you anyway Bilvy. It means a lot.” Something in his voice made William open his eyes.

He found Gabe far closer than expected, leaning over him slightly, blocking the sun so that there was a halo of light around him. He was gazing deeply into the brunette’s eyes. If William was more of a romantic he might’ve said Gabe was almost staring into his soul. His heart fluttered, and he found himself wanting to lean in. Instead he managed to mumble out, “It was no problem. Honestly.”

 Gabe turned to face the sun and William followed suit, heart still beating just a little too fast. Resolving to examine his feelings later, he closed his eyes once more as the sun slipped behind the city skyline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof be still my Gabilliam heart,,, I really love these two chapters and I hope you do too  
> So this chapter will be the last one for a while as I have Mocks starting tomorrow for the next 2-3 weeks, but after that it should return to normal (well there are only 3 chapters left anyway so i don't think it really matters). I have the rough outline of how the rest of fics in this series will go, and I've started the next, so hopefully it won't take too long before that gets posted,,,,  
> Anyway happy 20biteen lads


	11. Brendon Gossips Like a Middle-Aged Soccer Mom Living in the Suburbs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @Americans, I used both the word "soccer" instead of football and "mom" instead of mum, please appreciate it

Brendon knocked on the door of the lavish cream-colored house before stepping back while Ryan checked his watch. As the duo waited on the doorstep, Brendon pulled out some paperwork from God knows where. Seeing Ryan’s curious glance he gestured to it, “Arrest warrant.”

Ryan frowned, “Don't those take a while to get?”

“I know people with connections.” Brendon said leaning against the wall.

Ryan couldn’t help but snort.

Brendon rolled his eyes, “I used to go to church with a federal prosecutor who works for the US attorney office, Dallon Weekes. He knows the judges.” Brendon paused, “I’m pretty sure his assistant’s in love with him.” Ryan raised his eyebrow, at the unnecessary detail. Brendon took this as a sign to continue, “Cause, like, Dallon and I, we’re pretty close right?” Ryan kept his eyebrow raised, so he ploughed on, “On account of going to the same church for years. But Ryan – that’s his assistant, not you – every time we make like an inside joke or something or if I touch Dallon, he’ll get this kind of sad puppy look.”

“Does Dallon know?” Ryan questioned, mildly intrigued - there hadn't been much drama at the Wentz lately, so he felt the urge to remedy the fact that Tyler hadn't burst into his office with some gossip for a while, even if it was about someone he didn't know told by someone he barely knew.

Brendon couldn’t help but become excited when Ryan properly engaged in the conversation. “I don’t know man. I feel bad for Ryan if he does. I’m pretty sure Dallon’s straight, but you never know.”

“He sounds quite oblivious.” Brendon grinned widely as Ryan spoke up for a second time.

Brendon nodded sagely, “Definitely, this one time he –” Brendon was interrupted by the door opening.

 “Can I help you?”

Brendon quickly reverted to intimidating FBI agent (or about as intimidating one could get at five foot nine). “Mr Hewitt we are here about Miss Tina Thomas’ murder.”

Joel frowned, confused, “I already told you everything I know.”

Brendon shook his head, holding up the warrant, “Joel Hewitt you are under arrest on suspicion of the murder of Tina Thomas. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in in a court of law-”

Joel attempted to push past Ryan to escape, but Brendon quickly grabbed him, pinning him and slipping a pair of handcuffs on him, he continued his spiel as if nothing had occurred, “You have a right to an attorney, if you cannot afford one then…” Ryan couldn’t avoid feeling impressed as Brendon carted the man toward the car, all the while the man struggled as Brendon told him his rights. He followed on.

* * *

Ryan watched the interrogation intently, alone, arms wrapped around himself, through the one-way mirror. 

Brendon had been circling Tina’s manager. The detective reminded Ryan of a predator fencing in its prey, caught in a trap. Hewitt seemed fairly unperturbed by Brendon, arms crossed eyebrow raised.  Ryan wondered how much time it would take for him to confess, he was kind of craving coffee.

On the other side of the glass, Brendon came to a rest in front of the other man.

“How many times do I have to tell you I didn’t do it?”

Brendon ignored him and sat down at the table, across from Hewitt. “You must make a lot of money.” He stated calmly.

Hewittt frowned, “Well yeah, but I don’t see how that’s related to anything.”

“Well you see,” Brendon began, leaning toward him, “you seem like the kinda guy who appreciates having a large amount of money.  And you know what was worth a lot of money? That TV deal that Tina scored.”

Hewitt leaned back and scoffed, “Exactly. Why would I kill Tina if she was bringing in all that cash.”

Brendon smirked and stood up, “See, this is where it gets interesting.” Some agent scuttled into the interrogation room and handed a file to Brendon, before scuttling out again. He dropped it on the table. “My associates at the Wentz Institute ran a couple of tests and found Tina was three weeks pregnant.” He flipped the file open when Hewitt didn’t. It displayed  evidence -multiple graphs and statements- as well as a large picture of Tina smiling. “And you know what I think? I think when she found out, she wanted to leave the whole competitive eating thing behind. Her husband told us she had wanted to quit for a while, this was the perfect excuse.”

Brendon began to prowl around the manager again. “And then you came round to her apartment for practise and she told you she wasn’t gonna do this anymore. And then you got angry, because you worked hard to get her where she was, to help her become famous enough to get a TV deal, that she had just thrown away. So you pushed her, pushed her into the snake’s tank, and then you _ran_.” Brendon leaned towards his ear, “All because you weren’t gonna get all that nice money the Japanese promised you.”

He straightened up, brushing off his suit, “Well?” he asked, when Hewitt didn’t say anything. The man looked up sharply, “It was an _accident_ , okay? I was angry and I didn’t mean to push her so hard, just enough to remind her who’s boss.”

“And yet when she didn’t get up, you just ran. I think we’re done here.” He gave a nod at the one way mirror to Ryan, and exited the grey interrogation room, leaving Hewitt, his shoulders tensed, staring at the picture of Tina smiling happily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to rewrite the gossip scene so many times you don't even understand,,, anyway my mock gcses are done so that's good,,, also we've reached the penultimate chapter of the first fic in my Life on the Murder Scene series so yeah,,, that's fun,,, finally Take a Vacation came back on spotify and Ryan is in the studio recording music so yeah, thats made me happy,,,,
> 
> See you next time for the final chapter


	12. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh I'm not super pleased with the way I've written this fic, but I needed to get it out otherwise it wouldn't have happened at all. However I did try and improve this last chapter as much as I could, which is why it came out so late (my apologies) Enjoy!

Brendon met up with Ryan again outside the FBI headquarters. The stoic man had been sitting on a bench alone, watching the sunset as he waited. To be frank, Brendon was half surprised that he did wait. He took a moment to admire the soft contours of his face. He looked younger, more peaceful. It suited him. And no, he totally did not think Ryan was good looking. It was just nice to see him not arguing with him for once. That was all. Brendon poked Ryan's arm. “Sorry I took so long,” He apologised, when Ryan craned his neck to look at him, “I just needed to finish some paperwork about the case for Billie.”

Ryan smiled; it was the first smile Brendon saw on him, “It’s fine. It’s not often I get to enjoy the sunset.” Brendon sat down next to him, laying an arm on the back of the bench. “You often work late nights, huh?” he asked.

The forensic nodded, “Rarely get to enjoy being outside at all when you’re in a lab all day.” Brendon snorted in response, “You must be devastated.” Ryan laughed, startling Brendon somewhat, “Yes, all that missed interaction with strangers. Truly a tragedy.” 

Brendon decided to turn to face the glowing amber sunset, before proceeding cautiously, “Anyway, today was…”

“-Interesting.” Ryan played with a loose thread on his jacket. Brendon chuckled, “Yeah you could say that.”

Ryan turned toward the sunset once more. “So… where do we go from here.”

“I don’t know. Do you still want to be my partner?”

The offer hung in the air, thick with tension.

“I mean – yeah.” Ryan moved on from the thread to fiddle with his bracelet. The two sat in silence for a minute, causing Ryan to keep glancing at Brendon, worriedly, wondering what the detective was thinking. Brendon could feel his gaze, but he stayed quiet. 

“We should definitely stay partners,” Brendon eventually said decisively, before adding with his eyes crinkled in a smile,  “Billie would be on my ass if we didn’t. But like we need to...to do something different before we start this time.” He paused, deep in thought again. All of a sudden, he snapped his fingers loudly, making Ryan jerk his head back.“I’ve got it,” he said, “Why don’t we reintroduce ourselves, you know, have like a fresh start?”

Ryan snorted. Brendon looked so excited by his idea. “Why not.” The shorter man smiled slightly. The two turned to face each other. Brendon held out his hand to Ryan who shifted awkwardly, sitting up straighter. The detective stared into his whiskey coloured eyes, taking in his messy hair curled around his face, his chocolate coloured suit, his cord bracelets hanging around his wrists.

“Hey, I’m Brendon Urie.” His smile was brilliant, reminding Ryan of the sun. His dark eyes danced with humour. Ryan took his hand this time.

“I’m Ryan Ross.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, it's the final chapter, I deadass can't believe I actually finished a multi chapter fic. Thank you so much to everyone who gave kudos or commented on this, you really made my days. I don't know when the next fic in the series is going to be out (it will have a few new characters, some of my fav tbh), but there is a mini fic that i've written which will be set in between this and the next, and i've actually made a lil something which will hopefully aid your understanding of the Wentz building itself. (I'm not the best at descriptions or dialog lmao).   
> So this whole series is inspired by the TV show Bones which you should totally watch. I stole the case for this fic from the episode "The hotdog in the competition" (7x11) so go watch it, if you wanna understand it better (since i can't write for shit)
> 
> Anyway until next time! Excelsior :)


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